You are Lucky
by ashhead
Summary: Lilliane has no choice, but she awakens something which does. Unfortunately for her, it might not be in time to save her. Can Kel get past her preoccupations and find the truth?
1. Prologue

A/N- This is my first attempt at a Tamora Pierce fanfic- so please leave a review- all comments are welcome.This is set some time during Squire, but isn't really related. The beginning is slightly strange- so please stick with it. And just generally thanks for reading.

Tortall- the land of the free. Or at least that was how it appeared to those deprived of the freedoms it offered. A place were you had at the very least a choice. It had a woman for its champion, armies made up of commoners. It was a place where you could make your destiny.

Except that it wasn't. True, some of the stories were accurate, Alanna the Lioness was the Champion of Tortall, but she had suffered dearly to claim that position, and had had to conceal herself in order to achieve it. The armies of commoners had strict regulations and requirements that had to be met, and many were unable to meet them. The King and Queen had made attempts at changing this, making Tortall a place, the only place in the world, where true freedom existed, but it was not something that was easily done. And although to an extent it was true, far too many were still beyond the reach of this freedom.

Sat in the window of the room of her childhood, Lilliane gazed into the distance, the green of the valley mingling with the crimson lights of a cold winter sunset. Soft blue streaked with wisps of white dancing amongst reds and yellows strokes to create a beauty that her eyes completely missed. She had a piece of half finished needlework clamped between her fingers, a passion of hers that was usually able to calm her regardless of the circumstances. But today, hidden behind clammy fingers that trembled in a way that had nothing to do with the sharpness of the approaching night, not even this old passion was able to calm her.

Her face was usually pale, but today colour had fled it to such an extent that the tear stains that flowed across her face could well have been blood stains. Deep brown eyes enclosed in long lashes seemed now to dominate her face more than ever, the beads of tears resting in them making them shine in the fading light. But despite her near hysterical state, she sat perfectly upright, the boned corset she had been forced into to accent her tiny waist preventing anything else. Her hands still rested neatly in her lap and her legs were held together in a way that demonstrated her breeding and status more than any of the symbols of wealth that had been draped upon her.

In truth, she was hiding, this room held no refuge for her except that it was upstairs, and the men she was hiding from were downstairs. Their conversation, made rowdy by the expensive alcohol the occasion called for drifting up to her ears and into her mind, despite her attempts to ignore it.

She had felt this way before, hiding in the small room she had been assigned to by the Daughters, lost and scared amongst the scattered conversation of the other girls of the convent. But that place had quickly become home, and right now she would give anything to be surrounded by their inane conversation rather than the conversation she was hearing from her father.

Prospective husbands and betrothements were frequent topics of discussion at the convent, they were bound to be, considering that the girls were there to learn how to be good wives. They would each imagine their perfect husbands from the men they knew to be available, and would joke over who might end up with one of the more disgusting candidates. She had only been presented at court a matter of months ago, and had seen interest from a number of men who had been considered prime candidates. She had retired each evening to the room her father kept at the palace with a smile on her face, imagining what her friends would say, picturing herself getting married to whichever man she had spent the evening dancing and conversing with. And in fairness, there was no reason why should not. Her lineage was one of the most impressive in the whole of Tortall, she could claim to be a serious candidate in the succession to the throne if something were to happen to the Prince and Princess. Her father had extensive lands, and a very impressive fortune, which left her with a large dowry. And despite her tiny frame, she was one of the most attractive women to be presented at court that year, and at sixteen, there was potential for growth in that department anyway. Flawless skin and captivating eyes, framed by perfect auburn curls that shimmered in the light.

But her dreams had all been in vain. Her betrothal had been finalised, and it certainly wasn't to one of the dashing young men she had spent her nights dancing with. The man sat downstairs with her father, and the cause of his revelry, was anything but a handsome young man.

Approaching 50 at an alarming rate, a figure that supposedly once was muscled and attractive now hidden under great encompassing rolls of fat, a podgy face with narrowed eyes that seemed to measure everything he saw in terms of their advantage to him. He had been chosen because of the shipping industry that was tied to his name, her father seeing the advantage this could bring to his own estate, and more than willing to sell off one of his daughters in order to achieve it.

Lord Drazen's wife had killed herself over a decade ago, and he had never seen the need to replace her, his two sons being all that she was required for anyway. But they had been killed a few months ago, and he had suddenly found himself with a need for a wife again. Her skin crawled at the thought of his fingers on her skin, but apparently she didn't have a choice. She was going to become the lady of Sparrows Creek, whether she liked it or not.

She heard a knock at her door, and rose. She hadn't heard the conversation die or their approach, but she knew it was them outside. She rose and heard her voice beckon them in, quivering slightly with a fear that made it almost unrecognisable to her own ears. She didn't bother to wipe the tears from her face, they wouldn't notice anyway, and even if they did, they wouldn't care.

Her father and Lord Drazen appeared, and she curtsied low as was expected, holding her hands in her lap when she was finished, looking at the men who had interrupted her life so viciously with a gentle subservient glance.

Her father paid her no attention, his eyes greedily observing the fat man he had guided up the stairs. The subject of his attention was paying her attention, but in such a way that she felt her skin go cold. He surveyed her with beady eyes, a fat tongue wetting podgy lips slightly, fingers running through greasy, greying hair that she assumed hadn't seen a hairbrush in years.

His clothes were incredibly ill-matched, and in her pale amber dress that had been decorated with various pieces of jewellery her father had selected to show off his wealth, she felt like a doll being shown off to a collector.

"Well," her father demanded, still not bothering to pay her the slightest amount of attention. The fat, greasy man licked his lips again. Then turned his attention away from her.

He offered his hand to her father, "She'll do." They shook hands vigorously, and left without another word to her.

Lilliane, future wife of Lord Drazen of Sparrows Creek, seated herself, a salty torrent of tears now pouring from her, knowing she would never be able to halt them, so letting them fall unimpeded.

Casting her eyes unseeingly to the now departed sunset, she made a silent wish for her freedom, knowing that it would never come, but desperately seeking it anyway. Her mind cast itself to the legends that had created the mirage of a supposedly free Tortall, the Lioness, the Wildmage, all of them. 'You are so lucky'. The rest of her thoughts were sunk by misery as she cried deep into the night, her sobs only punctuated by laughter drifting up from the continuing party below.

Far away, hidden in a corridor in Corus, her thoughts stirred an entity that had long been sleeping. It had heard similar misery so often, but such a strong desire for freedom it had only felt once before, from the boy who had eventually bound him to this Chamber, the Chamber of Ordeal.

Its purpose had been to protect, and normally selecting from those who were brought for testing was enough to keep safe those it had been charged with. But such strong misery and such a desire for freedom meant that something else was needed.

It was necessary to select one to protect those it could not reach, the legendary Protector of the Small, a title that had not been needed for centuries. It cast its reach out, eventually finding a task that would decide upon the worthy. It would find one to protect them, all of them.


	2. Nine Years later

A/N Hey guys- thanks for the reviews, much appreciated. I know I forgot the disclaimer, I always do- so there's one in my profile (is that allowed- just in case its not- I own absolutely nothing). Also, the first chapter was set during squire, this is set 9 years on- and Lilliane is a character I made up. Thanks- and as always- reviews are always appreciated.

Nine years is a long time, too long for pretty young girls to stay that way, and far too long for innocence to be retained under the pressure of that which Lilliane had had to face.

She found out quickly how easy it was to be broken, to just say yes, to say anything he wanted if it might save her. Sparrows Creek was not a nice sort of place, especially for young girls used to fair weather and fairer tongues. The coarseness of the people, and the seeming strangeness of her northern customs made her no allies amongst them. She didn't mix, couldn't, so instead spent her time in the small room he had granted her, the room his previous wife had committed suicide in.

At first she was haunted by the image of the young girl who bore such a striking similarity to herself, but she had long since learned to pay it no heed, too many bad dreams had been caused by staring into hollow eyes filled with an emptiness that was now evident to any who cared to regard her with any more detail than a passing glance.

Silky black curls that had once twisted themselves about her figure were now cruelly bound back, highlighting the bone structure of her face that her poor appetite had caused to stick out painfully. She still wore pretty little dresses, and still kept a piece of needlework clamped between her fingers, but the dresses didn't hang as well after 5 pregnancies, and the needlework depicted scenes far from the girlish imaginings of what marriage might be like.

Her only comfort now was that, after finally giving him twin sons, she was left alone. Her four girls, the eldest now approaching 8, the youngest just turned 3, were alien to her, having barely seen them since their birth.

So here she was, peering out of the window once again, in exactly the same way as she had done nine years ago, wearing the same dresses, and ostensibly performing the same tasks. But her heart was far from crying, and her gaze was level, taking in and analysing all that she saw. Because, broken though she had been, and cruel though she had become, she knew what was taking place below her, and she knew how she was going to beat him, the horrific man who had done this to her, that had transformed her into the hideous thing she saw when she gazed into her mirror. And when they were finished with him, he would beg for forgiveness. But Lilliane knew it wouldn't be given, because she knew exactly what it was that he was doing.

He supposed her weak and pathetic, had seen her tremble and falter under his gaze so many times, had heard her screams echo into the night to mix with his vicious laughter. But she wasn't as broken as he supposed, and when she saw a possible way out, she jumped at it. She would get her revenge, and he would pay.

Slowly, and with extreme difficulty, she let a smile saunter onto her face, it felt strange and alien, her muscles having difficulty maintaining it. She had spent 9 years schooling herself to demonstrate no emotion, and even when that failed, a smile was never an expression that crossed her face. But now, now she wanted to gloat, wanted to be able to smile. So she turned her lips upwards and her gaze towards the sun.

They were coming, the one they called the Protector of the Small. They would save her, her children, and they would crush her husband and his Scanran friends. And she would be free, free to make the others pay.

Maybe this was the way it was supposed to be.


	3. Kel

_A/n- sorry this took me so ridiculously long to update. This is quite a short update- but its introducing Kel to the story (and yes Kel is the protector of the Small). As always- reviews are greatly appreciated._

Keladry of Mindelan flicked her far too long, honey coloured hair out of her face. She really should have gotten it cut before the Midwinter celebrations, she knew that there would be no time after they passed, and the last thing she wanted was to go back out onto active duty with long hair. But Dom had said he liked it long, and as much as she tried to deny it, his word had far too much sway over her. So it had stayed long, just for the Midwinter. They'd danced a little, flirted a lot, so she couldn't really say she regretted not getting it cut. It just got in the way was all.

That slight flick of her hair was the only noticeable sign of emotion on her face, despite the awful weather, the biting cold of sleety rain and icy winds, and the days they had spent trudging this same road. And anyone who knew less well than Tobe wouldn't have picked up on it. Unlike his mistress, he was squirming in the cold, not enough to offend Hoshi, his Lady's mount, but enough to put out a silent protest at being forced out in this ridiculous weather. Not that it was Kel's fault, Peachblossom needed him there, the injury he had sustained not so long ago was still bothering him. Still, that didn't mean he had to enjoy the cold.

But the young boy with a small amount of wild magic was by no means the strangest member of the company the Protector of the Small was known to keep, and her current company showed this well. A collection of sparrows and a rough looking dog trailed her with a company of King's Own, not Dom's company unfortunately, as well Sir Nealan of Queenscove, who still laboured under the impression that unless he accompanied her, Kel was bound to do something ridiculously stupid and noble, thus getting herself killed; which would then be his fault somehow, because everything Kel did was his responsibility. That Kel harboured the same feelings about him he was perfectly aware, but having been friends for as long as they had, neither one of them was likely to shift their over-protectiveness anytime soon, particularly not with the dangers that each of them faced on a regular basis.

Finally seeing her purpose, Kel called a halt to the company. They had reached Sparrows Creek. Eyeing it as she dismounted, Kel found a dark shape hidden in a window in one of the towers. Despite her Yamani training, she felt a shiver trickle down her spine. She was supposed to be here, and she was supposed to find that girl. A sense of purpose mixed with an odd sense of recognition that couldn't quite be shaken, even as she turned to face Neal.

Something wasn't right here.


	4. Treason

Treason was one of the things Kel found most unacceptable. To turn against your country, to sell out to your enemies, she couldn't even attempt to understand. But then again, Lord Drazen had long been known to be a disgusting man, his appetite for young women and his lust for power just two of his more disgusting aspects.

His keep showed neglect, and yet his quarters were draped with every extravagance imaginable. His people had been trodden into the ground with unfair tariffs and a streak of cruelty that was just another example of his character. Malnutrition and disease rampant amongst the children who should have been playing in the snow. Guards who had been hired to protect the keep tormenting the men who were trying to go about their business and terrifying their daughters. This was not a nice place to say the least.

Lord Drazen had been caught in the act, completely unaware of Kel's approach or his wife's betrayal, he had been in the midst of drinking himself into a stupor in front of his Scanran allies. The Scanran's were slightly more in control of themselves, their leader knowing he had come for a reason, but they were still drunk enough to render their attempts to scatter when they realised what was happening useless.

They had found four young children, Drazen's own daughters, alone in a kitchen, eyes filled with pain and hunger. The eldest, who couldn't have been older than eight herself, was clutching the smallest child to her, whilst the other two huddled behind her, as if this was a familiar situation. Kel's attempts to comfort them were genuine, but fell short of the mark, she was strange to them, and she didn't quite know what to say to them. They had been brought to their mother along with the twin boys who lived in adjoining quarters to their father, not yet old enough to walk, but already surrounded by such luxuries that most would never know.

But it was the mother herself, Liliane, who caused Kel the most discomfort. She was the one who had caused such a sense of unease before they approached the keep, and even now, that sense was still strong.

She was of a similar age to Kel, but that was where the similarities stopped. The "long" hair that had been bothering Kel earlier was nothing compared to the black locks that surrounded Liliane's petite frame. Dark hair was matched by dark eyes, sunken with lack of sleep and food into a gaunt face. And although Kel wasn't unattractive, she had seen enough court beauties presented in balls to know that she wasn't one of them. Liliane, without the hours of preparation and expensive dress, without the hours spent of hair and accessories, and without the excitement dancing in her eyes as she heard her name called, beat all of the court beauties Kel had ever seen hands down. She was so small and fragile, looking as though she might break if you touched her, her skin was so pale, and yet she shone. And despite her apparent frailness, a strength surrounded her, knowing that he was gone, and she dominated without effort.

Kel's words were halted and quiet without her realisation, she was simply hushed by the woman she was talking to. And the sense of recognition from earlier was growing. So as she thanked her for her information and service to the crown, and went through the procedures she had been taught were required, her mind was elsewhere entirely, trying to work out why it was that this woman bothered her so.

She spent the majority of her time at Sparrows Creek avoiding Liliane, putting in the work necessary so that the keep was prepared for the arrival of the King. He was to preside over the trial of Lord Drazen, who had been tortured for information in the meantime. The men from Scanra, who had been denounced as rebels almost immediately, were facing the same fate.

Almost unconsciously, she avoided Neal and Tobe, but the amount of work they had to do prevented much contact anyway. But the most disturbing moment came after the executions. She hated executions anyway, always had, and so had kept close to Neal throughout it, whose feelings were pretty much the same. As they were packing up to leave, Kel wanted to go back to Corus to see some of the pages, Kel received a message that Liliane had requested to see her. Hardly able to say no, she hit Neal, who had been making a joke her hair, again, and made her way up the stairs.

Liliane had kept her room despite its location and relative lack of comfort. Her daughters were currently camped out on her bed, looking ill at ease, still not comfortable with the woman who they knew to be their mother, but that they knew very little about otherwise. The boys were in a crib in the corner, asleep for the moment.

Kel entered, still not feeling comfortable, but knowing that once this was done she could leave.

"Lady Keladry, do come in." They eyed each other for a moment, both aware of the others strength of mind. But Liliane had a purpose, and it was going to be fulfilled. "The King has appointed me the Lady of Sparrows Creek until the boys are adults." The statement came out as a question, testing how much Kel knew.

Kel nodded, this had been her recommendation, there was no reason why Liliane should not keep her position, it was her co-operation that had made the discovery of Lord Drazen's treason possible.

"I wanted to thank you for that. Thank you for saving us," she gestured at her daughters. "And I have one further favour to ask of you. The boys, I want you to take them to the City of the Gods."

Kel was shocked to say the least, this was not at all what she had expected. "But they're too young, they can't be taken their."

"They cannot stay here Kel, Lord Drazen had allies, it is not safe for them here. I cannot take them, there is too much to do, but I do not know who to trust." Her words were heartfelt. Lord Drazen would've had allies who weren't caught, and the boys would be at risk from them.

Kel, seeing the truth in this, reluctantly agreed. She did not want to do this, she had other things to do, people she wanted to see, but she had taken an oath, and she would do this. She left to finish packing, promising that she would get the boys later and deliver them to the City of the Gods where they could be safe.

"Thank you," Liliane murmured as Kel left. That she meant sincerely. With the boys gone, it would be easy to account for her innocence when they died. And it would make things so much easier. She looked across at her daughters with a smile. They could be a family again.


End file.
